Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1887-11-18

I q
line had migrated to the district back
Of the Sunderland plantation, which
had to be passed In order to light on
/ anything at all There was something
about the Sunderland cuisine. too, that
must have appeared very tempting to my
men, for I did not willingly, L believe,
miss a meal. Ellen and 1, IN fact, were
constantly together. The old folks
made no objection. The blue eyes Of
the golden-haired sister beamed the
sweetest kind Of approval. the days
were long, and the JWlaIgnJs o. the am
old fir woods perfect, and believe 1
mentioned the fact, gentlemen" said
the commandments with a sigh,
that she was 10 and I was ..
al might remark parentheticslly,
that there is nothing IN life quite so
fascinating as TO be isolated in the viii
derness IN company with a beautiful
woman. Several books have been
written with that one idea to carry
them, and, like Charles Reade's Foul
Play they have always caught the
public's eve. There was no senti-
mental talk between us The crack Of
the guerrilla rifle, the distant boom of
battle, the war smoke IN the air, and
| the period when no one knew what q
day might bring forth We're very Ill
adapted for sincere love-making, and
that anything in the shape of man
could have made love to Ellen Sunder-
land insincerely it would take a pretty
bitter cynic to believe. But we We're
together none the less; together when
the tree shadows crept slowly across
the hot, still, brown fields as the sun
sank lower and lower toward the
mountains SUBMITS; together in the
IL &c
grown aisles Of the woods; IN the noon
tide heat; together when the big round
harvest moon hung still and simmer
ing like a great shield of gold balanced
against the black velvet wall OF the
autumn night universe. What we said
and what we did and what we thought,
it matters not. It would be to you
very much like chestnut, perhaps, TO
dwell upon it. Every woman knows
who has ever been 10; every man re-
members who knew what it was
to be D.
"Wel, one day, when had entered
the house, 1 had a surprise. 1 Lad
heard rumOrs of there being q wounded
rebel officer in hiding at the Sunder-
lands. had paid no attention to them,
however, believing them to be without
foundation. But on this day, entering
the house as usual without knocking, 1
opened the door Of the reception room
or parlOr, the first door on the right
hand side of the hall, which ran
through the house. There was a large
fireplace in this room on the side OPP
posite the door. AS L stepped in 1 saw
an easy chair, high-backed, in front of
this fire. I was Instantly conscious in
some way--fOr I certainly saw nothing
Of obs
was sitting in that chair. 1 did not at
tempt to see any more. 1 stepped out,
closed the door, and quietly took a
chair in the siting-rOom opposite. In
a moment or two the eldest daughter
came in hurriedly, pale and agitated.
" Mr. she gasped, Did you go
into the other rOom?'
81 I did, said L
Did you see anybody
I did not L answered very quietly
She looked me squarely in the eve. I
looked squarely back. She bowed,
and, apparently relieved, passed out
"She had hardly gone before Addie
came in. She was confused at seeing
me in the sitting-room.
oh, Mr. she said, and then
stopped in perplexity.
What is ftp 1 asked.
4 was going to ask-I-that is.
Did you go into the other room?'
Il did, said L
Did you sec anybOdyP
d" i did not
"And then, with the same question on
her lips, Ellen came in, ignorant of what
had occurred with the others. She
was very grave, almost sad. She asked
me the same question in q low, an ap-
-
| subterfuge with her. When she asked
if I had penetrated the mysterious
| apartment asked, shaking my head :
And why? Is there anything in
| this house to cOnceal?'
"The eldest sister. who had returned,
/ shook her head IN denial. 1t was no
/ wonder. He was her husband, I sup
| pose. / looked at Ellen and Addie.
/ They looked away. They never looked
| as lovely, at least to me. For they
would not tell lie and they trusted
| me.
well, I heard no more Of the
stranger, and things ran on as before
for q week or two. Then there came
| repeated rumOrs Of the guerrillas in the
/ neighborhood, and we began to take
| extra precautions. I continued to cal
| daily at the Sunderlands, and one after
! noon as was going away, Ellen seemed
| particularly Ill at ease. She was nerv
Gus, hesitating. and altogether unlike
J herself I said gOod-bY to her at the
porch, and went out to my horse. As
was about to mount she came ont Of
the house toward me bearing a long,
rich, crimson silk scarf, with fine tas-
sells of white silk at either end She
held it out to me, saying:
ANNfFA
1 cannot rob you,' I said Outside
of the guitar Ibelieve it was the only
thing of any value that she had left in
the world.
Please wear it, she said. And
while I hesitated she deity put II
around my neck, and before sus.
pecJed had put her arms around, too, and
had kissed me squarely on the lips. As
L looked at her, quite staggered in an
altogether happy state of surprise, the
tears sprang to her eyes, she turned
! away and went hastily into the house
II rode down the road slowly Hell
conduct was so strange, the memory Of
that kiss, the first and last she evel
gave me, was so tenacious that it drove
/ everything else out Of my mind. My
/ rein fell upon my horses neck, and il
there had been a hostile shaTpshOotel
or a rebel troop anywhere about,
would have been an easy prey. / had
five men with me, but they had gone
farther up the road and did not wal
/ for them 1 rode thoughtfully alone
j during most Of the way for four miles.
! Finally I approached The Gap til,
{ place of which spoke, the darkes
and most secluded section Of the Who'll,
distance.
"As entered it heard some one call